


Home for the Holidays

by MercuryGray



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Family Feels, Gen, Hogwarts, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 08:21:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17138294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryGray/pseuds/MercuryGray
Summary: Christmas should be a time for joy and merriment - but it's Newt's first Christmas at Hogwarts, and his first away from home, and joy and merriment are not exactly in abundance.





	Home for the Holidays

Theseus had lied.

His brother had assured him at the start of term that in a few weeks, Hogwarts would feel like home, but it was now December, and the magical castle with its endless hallways and trick staircases and suits of armor felt no more home-like to Newt Scamander than a rocky cave. In fact, a cave might have been preferable, for a cave would have supplied rocks to turn over and creatures to find and would not have been filled with people he had to talk to and homework that had to be finished.

But it was now Christmas, and Newt, who had been so looking forward to going home to the predictable confines of his room and his mother's hippogriff barns was once more disappointed. Not only had his brother's promise of home-like comfort failed to materialize, but just the other day the owl from their mother had come - a last-minute trip, clients very focused on a particular bloodline, hate to change plans...but the boys would be staying on at Hogwarts this Christmas.

This did not seem to bother Theseus at all, and why should it? He had friends who would be staying. This was his home, or something near to it. But for Newt? What was Christmas without a trip to the hippogriff barn to feed them, and laugh at the new foals, and decorate the tree, and eat cake by the fire while listening to his father read? Someone had already decorated the trees in the Great Hall, and no one would tell him where Professor Kettleburn stabled the Hogwarts teaching collection of beasts for Care of Magical Creatures, which Newt could not take until his third year.

So Theseus was outside building a snow fort and enchanting snowballs to knock his friends' hats off, and Newt was inside the Hufflepuff common room, reading in lonely and somewhat bitter silence. It was Christmas Eve, and they had been promised caroling later, but it would not be the same as at home.

"Would master like something to drink?"

Newt looked down from his well-thumbed copy of _Dewey Dewhurst Finds a Troll_ (he'd brought the whole series with him, and they were providing a little comfort as the term had gone on) to see a large, steaming mug, swaying precariously next to his seat. Leaning forward, a change of perspective produced a small house-elf underneath the mug, teetering under the weight of it, smiling expectantly as she struggled with her load. He took the mug, much to the relief of the house-elf, who let her arms drop in gratitude and looked up with interest at Newt. "Is it to your taste, sir?"

Newt had never met one of the Hogwarts elves before. Theseus had told him they usually stayed in the kitchens, and prided themselves on not being seen, but this one was obviously young, and still learning her trade. "Master Theseus gave Milpy the recipe," she shared happily. "He says he is getting worried about his brother, who is sad they is not going home for Christmas. He is sneaking into the kitchens and asking elves to make it for him - so Milpy is doing as he asks, sir! Does Master Newt like it?"

Newt looked down at the mug, and took a deep breath in, inhaling the fragrant steam and closing his eyes. Clove and cinnamon, apple and pear - and a dash of Ogden's Firewhiskey, just like Ma -

A tear peeked at his eye, and he sniffled, raising the cup to his lips for an experimental sip, the hot drink sliding into his mouth and filling his whole body with warmth. Just like Ma's. How many cups of this has he drunk over the years, and ladled out to caroling neighbors as they went through another verse of "God Rest Ye Merry, Hippogryffs"? And how many times had he helped his mother make it, saying, as she always did -

"It's not Christmas without wassail."

Newt looked up, opening his eyes. In his head, he'd heard his mother's voice, but someone else had said it, too.

Theseus was peeking out from the other side of the room, a mug of his own in hand. "I asked Ma for the recipe," he offered, crossing to Newt's chair. "I know you were looking forward to going home, and I...wanted to make it feel a little like Christmas."

Newt nodded, trying hard not to cry. He had longed for a return to the familiar, after these first three months at school - but here was the familiar for him, in a mug that smelled exactly like home. "How did you get in?" he asked weakly, trying to cover up the sudden rush of emotion welling up in the wake of the wassail.

"Told the door I was here to cheer you up."

"Milpy hopes you like it, young sirs!" the house elf said happily, taking Newt's tears for an expression of joy. "There is plenty more downstairs if you wants! And Merry Christmas!" And, with a pop, she was gone, doubtless back to the kitchens.

Theseus smiled, taking a sip of his own mug and looking decorously away as his younger brother hastily wiped his eyes and tried to compose himself. "Professor Kettleburn said we could go feed the school hippogriffs, after dinner, if we liked," he offered, tentatively. "I asked him special. And Ma sent me some Floo Powder, so we can read with them tomorrow night - I told everyone the Gryffindor common room fire was taken."

Newt sniffled again, feeling suddenly humbled at this extravagant show of Theseus' goodwill. His brother had obviously given this a lot of thought, in between snowball fights.

"Can we...build a snow creature tomorrow?" he asked, wondering if it would press his luck to ask for such a thing. "And play gobstones?" That was his brother's favorite game, which Newt usually hated to play, but there must be some concession made, in recognition of all of Theseus' hard work. Besides, it would be nice to spend some time with him. That was part of Christmas, too - putting up with your brother.

His brother grinned. "Of course."

Newt looked around the Hufflepuff common room, finding, suddenly, that the fire was a little brighter, the chair a little more comfortable, and the whole room felt much more...like home.

**Author's Note:**

> One of the things I liked about Crimes of Grindlewald was the establishment of the idea that Theseus is fundamentally a brother who looks out for his sibling when he can - which is where this story came from! I think Hogwarts would have been hard for Newt, especially if he’s on the spectrum a little bit, as many people read him to be.
> 
> I'm not sure who first came up with the idea that Mrs. Scamander is a fancy hippogriff breeder, but it is now enshrined in my memory as part and parcel of who she is.
> 
> The custom of Wassailing is a very old Anglo-Saxon practice, which takes its name from the toast Wes tu hal, Be thou well. Traditionally, it is made with ale or cider, heated with spices and served from a great big bowl to passing carolers, who go from house to house exchanging their song for each home's hospitality. In some regions of England, the bowl is taken out to the orchard so the trees that have supplied the cider can be saluted and celebrated. I think it's part of the Scamander christmas tradition to go and share some with the hippogriff herd.


End file.
